


Warmth

by krikkiter68



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Male/Female Relationship, Romance, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10784034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: Bill saves the Doctor from drowning, and finds out more about him as their friendship develops.





	1. Bill

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Thin Ice" but not canon.

"Help him!" Bill screams into the freezing air. "Help him!"

She can feel his long fingers slipping through her desperate grip as he disappears under the ice. Then sees three figures emerging through the mist, hurrying towards them, two burly men and a woman who appears to be made out of shawls. They squat down, grip the Doctor's arms with worn, brawny hands, and roughly haul him out of the water. She cradles his head, his wet silver hair curling again already against her gloved fingers, as the four of them carry him to safety.

"Here's fine," she says, a minute later. The TARDIS is just around the corner. "Thanks."

They plonk him down onto the frozen ground, nod at her and disappear again into the mist. Bill shivers, then unlocks the TARDIS, hooks her hands underneath the Doctor's shoulders, and pulls him inside. She groans with the effort. She's got good upper body strength - those sessions of hers at the gym are paying off - but he's heavier than she'd expect such a skinny man to be, and there seems to be miles and miles of him, what with his supermodel-length legs. Finally, he's safely inside. She unhooks his booted foot from the door frame and pushes the door shut behind them. She leans against the wall, gasping for breath.

The ship dips its lights in sympathy. It seems to like her.

Bill kneels down next to the Doctor, tips his head back to check his breathing, feels his neck for a pulse, and the skittering panic in her heart calms as she hears his soft, rasping breath, feels a slow thrumming beneath his skin. Funny, she muses, I thought it would be really fast, with his two hearts. She watches the slow rise and fall of his chest. Touches his pale, skinny hand again and shudders at how cold it is.

Her mind flicks back some eighteen years, and she's in her local library, she can't remember the book, Life In The Open, something like that. She'd been a voracious reader of stories where kids had adventures, Narnia, Hogwarts, and she loved reading about explorers; she's never had a holiday, never even went camping. She sees herself, a tiny girl with big hair and saucer eyes in the quiet, dust-smelling library, remembers the chapter titles. How To Build a Den. How To Stay Dry. How To Signal for Help. What To Do If One of Your Party Loses Consciousness.

Keep Them Warm. Put Them On Their Side. She unbuttons the Doctor's sodden coat and spreads it out. It's a quality coat, she notices, his waistcoat, shirt and most of his trousers are entirely dry. She's glad she won't have to take off his trousers; she doesn't know him that well, and those boots are very tightly laced. She rolls him onto his side, into the recovery position. Anywhere else, she'd have already called for an ambulance, but at the moment it's a dangerous world out there for both of them.

Glancing towards the console, she spots a large wooden chest on the floor underneath it. She's sure it wasn't there before, but as the ship's taken them back to the early nineteenth century, she's losing the element of surprise. She walks over to it and opens it up to find a large stash of warm blankets. Murmuring a thank you, she pulls all of them out. She lays them carefully, one by one, over the Doctor.

He murmurs something, and she stoops down.

"Doctor? Are you OK?"

"Clara..."

He's confused, she thinks. She takes hold of one of his hands, only a little warmer, and squeezes it.

"Doctor? It's me. Bill."

"I thought..." he starts, and lets out a long, shaky sigh. He opens his blue eyes, and she can see they're shiny with tears. 

After a pause, she lies down next to him, stretches an arm around him and holds him close. He buries his face in her wild hair.


	2. The Doctor

The Doctor's falling.

32 feet per second to be precise, and he's counting down the seconds to impact. 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and - 

the shock of cold, synapses snapping, the water punching his lungs.

He curls into a ball, into the first and last position he'll ever assume. Time to go.

He closes his eyes. Floats. Floats, with nothing but the ruins of himself on the sea floor.

Time passes.

He doesn't know how long he spends there, but somehow something always calls him back. He recalls swimming to the surface, towards the light, trying to reach her.

In his dreams, he knows she's missing. When he wakes, she melts away like early snow after rain.

Her words, words of wisdom, critical words, words he needs to hear.

"Get up off your arse and win."

In his sleep, he smiles at the memory. He'd do just that, if only he wasn't so tired.

And the cold is worse, this time. It permeates his whole system, turns his red blood blue, the tree-like network of his veins freezing by the second. And he can survive longer than most humans, underwater, but the cold is racing towards his hearts and it's only a matter of time - 

Then a miracle. Someone, something has pulled him clear of the deadly, deadening cold. Dimly, he senses movement, then everything fades away. And then, finally, he thinks he can see the lights of the TARDIS. Will he see her, now? He calls her name, and nothing responds. Shouts, then screams it.

And then he feels a warm hand, gripping his own.

"Doctor?" he hears. "It's me. Bill."

"I thought..." he starts.

Someone's lying next to him, giving him warmth, giving him comfort. He curls his body against theirs, burying his face in their hair. Finally, he realizes who she is, and he breaks away, tries to sit up. She's his companion, and she mustn't lie on the cold floor.

"Doctor?" she says, breaking into his thoughts. "Can I get you anything?"

"Um," he says, "Hot chocolate, if you wouldn't mind? If it helps, I've got a map for the kitchen."

 

Ten minutes later and he's sitting up, swathed in blankets, sipping something hot and creamy from a huge steaming cup. She rubs his back.

"Doctor? Are you OK? You were calling for someone."

He nods.

"I always dream about the people I've lost. I...I don't know who she is. She comes back to visit me in my dreams."

He thinks Bill's eyes are brimming with tears, but then she smiles, bravely, and he's confused.

"Yeah. I know what you mean. I see her in my dreams, too," she says.

Bill hugs him from behind, and he rests his head against her shoulder. There's a big pause. 

"Bill?" he murmurs.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna make a dream diary. Shall we compare notes?"

She smiles at him, such a big smile, such a big, human smile, and he can't help but smile back,

"You're on. Goodnight, Doctor," she says, as she stands, preparing for the walk to her bedroom.

"Goodnight, Bill. Sweet dreams."


End file.
